


I Took No Time With The Fall

by nerdwegian



Series: Tumblr Prompts [30]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdwegian/pseuds/nerdwegian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>haven’t heard from u in a while. still mad? i miss sucking ur massive cock</b>, the screen says.</p><p>Phil almost chokes on his coffee.</p><p>(Tumblr prompt: Texting the wrong person.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Took No Time With The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Not betaed. Sorry.

Phil’s had his new phone for exactly eleven minutes—just enough time to leave the AT&T store, walk to the Starbucks two stores down and get a coffee—when it chimes with a text.

For a moment, Phil doesn’t realize it’s his phone. But then he realizes that the subtle _ding!_ came from his pocket, and he frowns. He hasn’t even told anyone about his new number yet, how the hell can anyone be texting him? It’s probably a carrier message, he decides, and fishes the phone out of his pocket.

 **haven’t heard from u in a while. still mad? i miss sucking ur massive cock** , the screen says.

Phil almost chokes on his coffee.

The area code is for this area, and for a moment he isn’t sure what to do. Delete it and ignore it? But then he figures that whoever sent this text would probably appreciate knowing that they’re not going where they’re supposed to, before they send something really private.

**I'm sorry, either you have the wrong number, or you're trying to reach whoever used to have this number.**

Phil's almost at his car when the phone chimes again.

**...scotty?**

**Sorry** , Phil texts back. **Not Scotty. I just got this phone #.**

Phil stops by his car, leaning against the door and sipping his coffee, wondering if he'll get an answer to that.

**well fuck. sorry to bother u man. or lady.**

Phil snorts a little. **It's all good. Good luck with Scotty.**

Phil thinks that's the end of it, and he's just gotten behind the wheel when another text message comes in.

**meh. i don't think i'll have much luck there if the fucker went and ditched his phone # on me, but thanks anyway.**

Phil could ignore it by now, he knows, but something still makes him text back. **Sorry to hear that.**

 **but isn't that a dick move tho?** comes the next one, almost even before Phil's hit Send, which tells him whoever he's texting with was already typing. **we've been together for like a year.**

There's a two-second pause.

**ok ten months**

Phil sits there in his car and stares at his phone screen, and can't help but feel sorry for the person at the other end of this conversation. He thinks about his own past relationships and how he would have felt if they had ended things like that, and it's not a good thought.

The next text message is a long rant, consisting mostly of poorly punctuated abbreviations.

**it's not like i was v. attached to the guy u know? cuz i wasn't. i'm not. still u'd think he could handle things better. we had one fucking fight, and the guy walks out and then falls off the face of the earth. wtf? i can handle a breakup conversation, ok, i'm a godfuckingdamn grown-ass man, i'm not a child**

Phil, who was in the middle of typing out another apology, pauses, fingers hovering over the screen, when he reads the words _grown-ass man_.

**btw hope ur not a homophobe, but if u are feel free to block, i'm just ranting**

Phil thinks for a moment, then deletes what little he'd already typed, before sending a message that simply says, **Definitely not a homophobe, heh.**

 **ok good** , comes the reply, and Phil likes to imagine that it's a little relieved.

 **Maybe there's another explanation?** Phil tries, though he can't imagine what could have happened to a guy to cause his phone number to be released. **Maybe he didn't pay his phone bill?**

**trust me he paid it. this is actually just like him.**

Phil frowns a little. **Then he doesn't sound worth your time, anyway** , he sends before he can really think about it.

**probably not, but the sex was really really really good. ;)**

Phil pauses again and briefly considers his options. **I assumed so, given your clear admiration for his massive cock,** is what he settles on, and as soon as he's hit Send, he slumps down a little in his seat, instantly feeling like an idiot.

 **judge all you want, i got no shame. so i like how a big dick feels in my... hand. don't knock it till you've tried it. ;)** , comes the reply.

Phil blinks, and then throws all dignity and modesty to the wind. **Who says I haven't tried it?**

It takes several minutes to get an answer this time. Phil's just wondering if he should just start the car and head home and forget this whole conversation ever happened, when he finally gets a response.

**u've had a big dick in your... hand? :p**

Phil's eye twitches, and he quickly looks around, suddenly feeling like every person in the immediate vicinity can somehow see his phone screen through his car windows, and are peering over his shoulder, scowling in outrage at his words. But there's nobody looking at him through the car windows. Nobody even looking his way.

Hunkering further down in his seat, Phil types, and doesn't even pretend his heart isn't beating a little faster in his chest. **Every time I use the bathroom.**

Phil holds his breath and feels embarrassed and awkward--but also, oddly excited. He gets his reply almost immediately.

**nice!! haha. you seem like a cool dude. i'm clint btw.**

Phil realizes halfway through his response that he's got a ridiculous grin on his face, and he finds it surprisingly difficult to stop smiling.

**Nice to meet you, Clint. So to speak. I'm Phil.**

**nice to meet u too. sorry about all the dick talk.**

Phil takes a sip of his coffee and then makes a face as he realizes it's gone from hot, past lukewarm to a point where it's not yet cold, but definitely cool enough it's just gross. Phil blinks. He hasn't spoken to Clint that long, right?

 **I'm not traumatized, don't worry about it** , he writes back.

**still. we should hang out sometime. let me make it up to u.**

Phil doesn't know what possesses him to, but he starts typing, **That would be nice** , before a thought suddenly occurs to him and he deletes it all again. **Wait a second. Are you just interested in my massive dick?**

 **damn, u saw right thru me :)))))** comes the near instantaneous response.

It's enough to make Phil laugh.

**I feel vaguely objectified. Should I be offended? What about Scotty?**

**fuck Scotty** , Clint responds. **but not literally**.

 **But now I want to** , Phil can't help but respond, laughter threatening to bubble forth from his chest. **I have it on good authority sex with Scotty is 'really really really good,'** Phil writes, and pretends he didn't actually scroll up for a moment, to see how many _really_ s Clint had sent before.

 **i'm sure most of that was my doing**.

Phil's grin grows. It's been years and years since he's flirted like this, and seriously--what are the odds? **How can you be sure of that?**

The next texts are a series of rapid-fire one-sentence _ding! ding! ding!_ s, and each one makes Phil want to laugh.

**i just am.**  
 **though i suppose ur right**  
 **maybe i'm actually crap in bed**  
 **no way to be really sure.**  
 **best ask someone else.**  
 **you wanna find out?**

It's a bold question, and Phil's fingers hangs over the screen for a long moment. He could be snarky. He could play the whole thing off as a joke.

 **i hear rebounding is a thing ppl do** , Clint writes, like an addendum at the end.

Phil thinks about how long it's been since he got laid, he thinks about how he knows absolutely nothing about this person, and he starts carefully weighing the pros (sex! companionship!) against the cons (axe murderer? creep?)--before finally, he decides to hell with it.

Heart pounding, Phil carefully types out, **Yes**.

End.


End file.
